Photographing inside an Indian factory is not a matter of showing up with a camera and a call sheet. It is a process of layered permission, shaped by hierarchy, safety culture, and trust — and it almost always starts long before you step through the gate.

Unlike offices or commercial interiors, factories operate under regulatory oversight, internal protocols, and operational pressure. Photography is allowed only when it is clearly understood, explicitly approved, and seen as non-disruptive to the work itself.

The first and most visible permission comes from company management. This is usually formal: a written approval, an email trail, or a sanctioned brief that defines why photography is being commissioned and how the images will be used. Without this, nothing else moves. In many organisations, especially large manufacturing groups, this approval may come from corporate communications, brand teams, or senior operations leadership rather than the plant itself.

But management approval alone is never enough.

Once the decision is made in principle, permissions shift from whether photography is allowed to how it will be allowed. This is where plant management and safety teams come in. Every factory has its own internal rules, often stricter than external regulations. Before a camera is raised, photographers are typically required to undergo site-specific safety inductions. These briefings explain where you can go, where you absolutely cannot, what protective equipment is mandatory, and how movement on the floor is controlled.

In many facilities, photography is conditional on being escorted at all times. You don’t roam freely. You move with someone who understands the flow of operations and knows when a moment is safe — or unsafe — to pause. This isn’t about control; it’s about risk management. A photographer stepping half a metre too far in the wrong direction can interrupt a process, violate a safety zone, or put themselves in danger.

There are also process and confidentiality permissions that are often invisible until they matter. Certain machines, workflows, or techniques may be commercially sensitive. Some areas may be cleared for photography only from specific angles, or only when particular steps are not visible. In export-oriented or multinational operations, this sensitivity is heightened. Photography may be approved for branding or documentation, but restricted for anything that could reveal proprietary information.

In India, this is often handled pragmatically rather than through formal NDAs on the floor. You are told, clearly and firmly, what not to photograph — and that boundary is expected to be respected without debate.

Finally, there is the most underestimated permission of all: operational goodwill.

Even with written approvals and safety clearance, the shoot only works if the people running the plant are comfortable with your presence. Operators, supervisors, maintenance teams — they are the ones who decide whether photography feels like a collaboration or an intrusion. This is where experience matters. Knowing when to wait, when to step back, and when not to insist on a shot builds trust quickly. Losing it can shut access down just as fast.

In practice, photographing inside factories in India requires alignment across multiple layers: corporate intent, plant authority, safety compliance, and on-ground cooperation. Miss one, and the shoot becomes fragile. Respect all of them, and access tends to open rather than close.

That’s why permissions in industrial photography are not a checkbox exercise. They are part of the work itself — negotiated, maintained, and respected from the first conversation to the final frame.

Written by Sephi Bergerson, industrial photographer specialising in manufacturing and industrial environments.